


Bubble Trouble

by whelvenwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Castiel in the Bunker, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whelvenwings/pseuds/whelvenwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has picked up the unfortunate habit of stealing other people's baths just as they're about to get in them, but when Dean decides that enough is enough, things don't go to plan. He never wanted to give up his bath... but he hadn't wanted to share it, either....<br/>------------------------<br/>The bathwater smelled sweet, flowery and enticing. It had a rosy tinge under the iridescent jumble of bubbles on the surface, which reflected the light from a dozen scented candles that lined one edge of the tub. A warm fug misted the cool surfaces of the bathroom, softening the mirror’s image of Cas’ profile as he stared down at the scene with thoughtful eyes.</p><p>The bath looked absolutely divine, and Cas didn’t use that word lightly. The scent of the water was incredible, and the thought of sinking into its warmth and letting the time slip by as the hot water eased the tension in his body… that sounded like the best possible end to the day.</p><p>There was only one problem: it wasn’t Cas who had run the bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubble Trouble

The bathwater smelled sweet, flowery and enticing. It had a rosy tinge under the iridescent jumble of bubbles on the surface, which reflected the light from a dozen scented candles that lined one edge of the tub. A warm fug misted the cool surfaces of the bathroom, softening the mirror’s image of Cas’ profile as he stared down at the scene with thoughtful eyes.

The bath looked absolutely divine, and Cas didn’t use that word lightly. The scent of the water was incredible, and the thought of sinking into its warmth and letting the time slip by as the hot water eased the tension in his body… that sounded like the best possible end to the day.

There was only one problem: it wasn’t Cas who had run the bath.

Cas sighed. It would be wrong to get into bath, of course; it wasn’t his to enjoy. If he wanted to have a bath, he should wait and run in his own one, later. There was no shortage of hot water in the bunker, after all. And yet, he could never seem to get the bubbles to foam up so temptingly, and he always forgot to light the candles before getting in, and the water was usually either too hot or too cold…

Cas leaned down and dipped a finger into the bathwater. It was the perfect temperature.

He sighed, and straightened up. He should just pick up the comb that he’d come in here to get and then leave. That would be the right thing to do. He didn’t even have a towel in here, so if he did get in, he’d have to somehow get back to his room completely naked and dripping wet afterwards.

And yet…

It was just too tempting. Cas couldn’t hold back any longer; he grabbed the back of the t-shirt that he was wearing, and began to tug it off over his head.

There was a rustling sound at the door of the bathroom. Cas, his t-shirt incriminatingly half-off, tugged it harder and peered over the hem to see – Dean, a towel over his shoulder and a growing frown on his face.

“Dean…” Cas began, slowly sliding the t-shirt down over his arms.

“Oh, no,” Dean said, dropping the book that he was holding to the floor. His towel slipped off his shoulder. He was wearing a bathrobe tied loosely at the waist, with bare legs and a deep V of skin visible at his chest.

“Dean… it’s not what it looks like,” Cas said. He carefully balled the t-shirt up in his hands, maintaining eye contact with Dean the entire time. He should definitely surrender the bath to its rightful owner now – but he’d come this far, hadn’t he?

“Oh, I think this is exactly what it looks like,” Dean said, glancing from Cas to the bath and back again. He narrowed his eyes. “Back away from the tub, Cas.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved at all. In the stillness and silence, there was a plink of water as the tap dripped.

“Alright,” Cas said, holding up his hands. Dean relaxed a little, shifting his weight back onto his heels and leaning against the wall to make room for Cas to pass by him, out of the bathroom. “Alright. Just let me…” Cas fiddled with his t-shirt, making as if to put it back on. Holding it by the hemline, he kept his movements soft and unhurried. If he could just –

Dean huffed impatiently, and that was when Cas threw his t-shirt across the space between them. It fluttered in the air for a moment, soaring through the fug, before landing squarely on Dean’s face.

“NO!” Dean yelled, snatching at the material. Before he could even see, he was heading desperately towards the bathtub, one hand reaching out to grab Cas – and Cas, who had been about to pull off his jeans before jumping into the bath, had to speed up his plans. Just as Dean reached him, he lifted one leg up high and stepped into the bath, the hot water stinging his bare toes; Dean, finally managing to extricate himself from Cas’ t-shirt, gave a shout at the sight of Cas half-in and half-out of his bath.

“NOT AGAIN!” he bellowed, pulling at Cas’ arm and taking one step into the tub himself. Cas wobbled violently but managed to keep himself upright as Dean grabbed at his shoulders, trying to force him back out of the bath. “YOU ARE NOT DOING THIS AGAIN, YOU –”

Cas gave Dean a light shove and managed to destabilise him, giving himself time to take another step into the bath – both of his feet were in the water, now, and the bottoms of his bootleg jeans were swirling around his ankles. Dean growled and returned the shove with interest, grabbing hold of the shower curtain to gain some balance and pulling himself up all the way into the bath, too. They were standing face to face as Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’ upper arms, trying to wrestle him out; Cas felt his bare feet losing purchase on the slippery bottom of the tub –

“Dean – DEAN –” Cas grappled for a grip on Dean to keep himself standing, and his hands found the waistband of Dean’s bathrobe. They both tilted and regained their balance, still trying to direct the other’s falling weight out of the bath.

“I am not losing this one!” Dean said furiously, sliding backwards as he pushed against Cas, who let go of Dean’s waistband with one hand to try to steady himself against the wall for a second, before leaning forwards, trying to press his advantage. Dean’s arms windmilled as he scrambled not to fall, and only Cas’ grip on his bathrobe kept him from crashing backwards for a moment before he righted himself.

“Dean – this is foolish – one of us is going to get hurt!” Cas replied, bending his knees to keep his centre of gravity low as Dean took hold of his shoulders once more, trying to force him to take a step back out of the bath.

“Then give it up!” Dean shouted back. Cas’ hands were on Dean’s upper arms and they had each other in a death grip, pitting their brute strength against the other’s. Dean’s hands were slipping on Cas’ bare shoulders as he started to sweat with the exertion in the heated bathroom; Cas narrowed his eyes and stooped low, evading Dean’s grip long enough to scoop up a handful of bubbles, reach up, and smear them across Dean’s face.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, and then they were fighting in earnest, the condensation making their bodies slip over each other as they grappled and snatched. Cas got hold of Dean’s hair and pulled, so Dean elbowed Cas in the stomach; Cas grabbed at the shoulder of Dean’s bathrobe and tugged, hard, and there was the sound of material ripping. Dean’s eyes went wide with anger and, in his moment of surprise, Cas deftly hooked his foot around Dean’s ankle and pulled.

Dean spun on the spot, trying to keep his balance. Facing away from Cas, now, he scrabbled for support, but only found the sheer wall; his weight tilted, further and further backwards, until in a moment of clarity Cas realised what was going to happen and tried to get out of the way, but there was no time, and – CRASH.

Dean slammed back into Cas and they both fell, reaching for something to hold and finding nothing. The bubbly water received them with an almighty splash, water droplets flying everywhere. A great wave rose up to soak the wall at the opposite end, before it rolled back across the tub to drench them both as they sat, still grasping for a handhold and squirming to get upright, before realising the attempt was fruitless… and going still.

They were both breathing hard, Dean sitting between Cas’ legs, and Cas wedged against the back of the bath by the press of Dean’s weight.

After a moment of stillness, Cas cleared his throat.

“That… went well,” he said, dryly. Dean tried to turn to look at him, but was squashed in position, unable to move.

“That went well?” he demanded of the taps, instead, gleaming unperturbed at the far end of the tub. “That’s all you have to say for yourself? This bath was perfect, Cas.”

“Yes,” Cas said regretfully. “It was.” His jeans were soaked all over, and getting tight and heavy in uncomfortable places. Dean’s weight certainly wasn’t helping. If Cas could only move his legs – but there was no chance, Dean had them jammed up against the sides of the bath.

“It was perfect,” Dean repeated, bitterly. His bathrobe was swirling around them, shiny and soaked through. Cas’ hair was sticking to his forehead in the damp heat. With an almighty effort, he managed to lift his weight up the bath an inch. There, that was much better; the hard line of Dean’s spine was no longer pressing in a place that didn’t enjoy being pressed.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said, and meant it.

“Well, sorry’s not good enough,” Dean snapped. Cas noticed that his body was trembling slightly, and realised that Dean was using all of his core strength to try to keep from leaning back against Cas’ chest. His efforts were mostly in vain, but it looked very uncomfortable.

“Can you get up?” Cas asked cautiously. Dean huffed, and wiggled experimentally. He grunted, and then tried again – and then again – but every time he tried to move, he slipped and fell back onto Cas’ chest.

“Ooft,” Cas said, as Dean thudded into him for the fifth time. “Dean –”

“If you just – lift your legs –”

“I can’t,” Cas said. “They’re wedged.”

Dean sighed, leaning his head back in frustration and accidentally resting it against Cas’ chest for a moment. He jerked away, but when Cas made no comment and didn’t shift, he tentatively, slowly let it fall back to rest there again. Cas breathed slowly and evenly.

“So,” Dean said, after a moment. The steam was still rising off the water around them, tracing barely-visible patterns in the air. “Do you have a plan for how to get out of this?”

Cas looked down at the top of Dean’s head. His hair was beaded with condensed water, and had a few stray bubbles caught in it. It looked soft.

“I will work on a strategy,” he said solemnly, and Dean nodded, his hair brushing against Cas’ chin.

“Good,” he said. “Because this is not what I had in mind when I ran in this bath.”

They sat in silence for a long minute. Cas could feel Dean slowly allowing his body to relax, the weight of him increasing as his muscles unwound. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though: in fact, it was almost… nice.

Dean seemed to be thinking along similar lines.

“At least you’re good to lean on,” he said, his voice slower, calmer. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” Cas replied. “This is fine.”

Dean flicked his fingers idly across the surface of the water.

“Still working on our escape plan, Houdini?” he asked.

“Yes,” Cas lied, trying to come up with something quickly. “I could use my grace to… smite the bath.”

There was a pause.

“Bath-smiting,” Dean said, with a tiny wobble of laughter at the edge of his determinedly serious voice. “Yeah, yeah, that’s a – that’s a great plan.”

“Or,” Cas said, “if you could reach the shower curtain with your feet, you could lever yourself up by gripping it with your toes.”

“Not sure my toe-grip is strong enough, man,” Dean said, barely keeping back the laugh that Cas could feel inside him, his shoulders shaking a little against Cas’ chest.

“Well, that is unacceptable,” Cas said. “If we ever get out of this, you must work on the athleticism of your toes.”

Dean snorted, and then they were both giggling – and it was hard to stop, with both of them lying there in the bath with their clothes on, two grown men wedged together in the rose-scented water. Cas laughed almost silently, his eyes crinkling, head tilted down so that one cheek rested briefly against the top of Dean’s head.

“Of course, we could always call Sam,” Cas said, and then they were laughing even harder at the thought of Sam walking in on them like this, covered in bubbles and stuck in the bath. Every time Dean tried to stop laughing, he would feel Cas’ chest shaking silently behind him and it set him off again, until he was wiping the tears from his eyes.

“OK, OK,” he said eventually. “Stop, I’m gonna pee.”

“Dean!” Cas said, horrified, and of course that set Dean off again, giggling uncontrollably as Cas protested. “Stop laughing! Don’t you dare pee in this bath – I am not going to be stuck in a bath that – stop laughing!” Cas reached around with one of his hands and pushed his palm over where he thought Dean’s mouth would be, muffling the sound of his laughter.

“Css, mmmm sfmmm,” Dean said, stifled by Cas’ hand, but Cas didn’t move it until Dean’s shoulders had relaxed and he was no longer giggling. When he finally let go, Dean didn’t speak, but let his head fall even heavier on Cas’ chest. The silence rolled around them, warm and comfortable. Cas’ mind was mostly blank, and what few thoughts he had centred around the places on his body where Dean was pressed against him.

“You know, this isn’t how I imagined sharing a bath would be,” Dean said sleepily.

Cas said nothing for a moment, as the slowly-spoken words curled in the air like steam. He left it too long, and felt Dean shift against him, tensing.

“Uh – wait, I mean – haha, that sounded as though…” Dean said, unconvincingly. “What I meant was, this isn’t the usual way to share a bath, so…”

“I believe sitting at opposite ends is more traditional,” Cas said gravely, and Dean relaxed a little.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding relieved. “And, you know, no clothes is more usual. Uh – not that I wish we didn’t have clothes on –” Dean mumbled something that Cas couldn’t hear, which was probably a series of swearwords.

“It might be more comfortable if we didn’t have clothes on,” Cas pointed out.

“Yeah, but… dude…” Dean said, sounding uncomfortable. Cas sighed.

“You know, I think – if I just –” he placed a hand on either side of the bathtub and heaved, levering himself up with all the strength in his arms.

“Oh,” Dean said, and shifted as Cas moved under him, leaning forwards so that Cas could manoeuvre. For a brief moment they were a tangle of limbs – and then Cas was out, his drenched jeans dripping onto the bathroom tiles. Dean was watching him, his gaze travelling over Cas’ bare chest and shoulders for a moment before moving up to his face and meeting his eyes.

“Well, that was an experience,” he said, trying to grin. He suddenly looked very young, Cas thought, sitting in the scented water with his bathrobe hanging off one shoulder, his skin rosy pink in the heat. Cas swallowed and bent to pick up his t-shirt, and then started to make for the door.

“Cas –” Dean said, and Cas swung around. “Uh – uh. See you later, then?”

His tone was questioning, obviously trying to figure out if he’d caused offence. Cas sighed and relaxed his mouth into a small smile, and nodded.

“Enjoy your bath,” he said, with a little spark of mischief in his eyes. Dean caught it, and grinned back.

“Sure will,” he said. “Better luck next time, Cas.”

**

Three days later, Cas was sitting in the kitchen with a large mug in his hand, reading over some notes that Sam had left out for him and Dean to peruse: a possible case, a haunting, several towns over. It was too late to go that day, as the sun had already set – but it looked to Cas as though they would have to deal with this one in person. Just as he took the first sip of steaming hot chocolate, Dean poked his head around the door.

“Just going for a bath,” he said.

“Alright,” Cas replied, not even glancing up. A few moments passed, and Dean didn’t move. Cas looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Uh…” Dean said. “You busy?”

“I’m reading up on this case,” Cas said. “If we go tomorrow, it would be best to be prepared.”

“Right. Yeah,” Dean said, his eyes asking a question that Cas wasn’t certain he understood. “Yeah. Well, see you.”

“See you later,” Cas responded automatically. Dean disappeared back around behind the door. Cas bit his lip as he listened to Dean pad away down the corridor towards the bathroom, alone.

**

A week after that, Cas walked into the bathroom looking for his towel, and was met with a surprise.

The tub was full of water again, steaming curling seductively off the surface like beckoning fingers. This time, the scent of jasmine was in the air, and there were even more candles, even more bubbles – the scene was as perfect as a stage set, everything neat and carefully positioned. Cas stared down at it, not even bothering to test the temperature – of course it would be just right. He frowned.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind him. “Don’t you dare.”

Cas spun around to see Dean standing in the doorway, tensed as though ready to run at him.

“Dean?”

“That’s my bath,” Dean said. “I ran that in.”

“Alright,” Cas said.

“So don’t even think about getting in it.”

“I’m not,” Cas said.

“You’ll regret it,” Dean warned, taking a step closer and puffing out his chest threateningly. Cas shrugged slightly.

“I won’t do it, then.”

Dean seemed to deflate.

“Well… good,” he said roughly. “Good. Learned your lesson.”

Cas watched him closely, wondering if he dared. What if he were reading the signals all wrong? If this went badly, if Dean rejected him, it would be so much worse than if he’d said nothing at all. And yet…

Dean was standing with his hands folded nervously, his eyes meeting Cas’ and then darting away again. In a moment of sudden clarity, Cas realised that Dean was having exactly the same internal argument. He smiled, small and genuine.

“Of course I learned my lesson,” he said, taking a step closer to Dean, who swallowed and let his eyes dip to Cas’ lips for a moment. Cas’ t-shirt was starting to stick to his lower back in the steamy heat. “I learned to only get into baths when I’m invited.”

“Invited?” Dean mumbled. His cheeks were bright pink, but he wasn’t moving away, not for a second. Cas almost rolled his eyes; he was going to have to make this even easier.

“Invited,” he confirmed. “For example… if I were to say, ‘would you like to share this bath with me,’ you would say…”

Dean seemed to have something stuck in his throat for a moment; when he spoke, his voice came out slightly high-pitched.

“Yes,” he managed. Cas smiled, and Dean smiled back.

“You’d say yes?”

“I’d say yes.”

They stared at each other for a long, long moment.

“I would wear fewer clothes this time,” Cas said, coming even closer to Dean.

“I would –” Dean squeaked, and then cleared his throat. “I would be good with that.”

Cas watched Dean for a second longer, and then nodded, beginning to undress. He slipped his t-shirt off over his head, and Dean loosened his bathrobe, let it fall to the floor. They were moving slowly, softly, gracefully, as though performing a dance with rehearsed steps. Their eyes never left the other’s body, trailing over the exposed skin – Cas unashamedly, Dean blushingly, his cheeks afire. Cas unbuckled his jeans and stepped out of them, aware of Dean’s gaze travelling up his legs, running over his bare thighs. He held out his hand, and Dean took it. Together, they climbed into the bath. Dean hissed a little at the heat of the water.

“Like before?” Cas asked, and Dean nodded without speaking. Cas released Dean’s hand as he turned, and took hold of his waist instead. The press of Cas’ palms was firm on Dean’s warm, flushed skin. In perfect unison, they sat down together; Cas grunted as Dean shifted into position, lying just as he had been before, with his back pressed against Cas, and his head leaning on Cas’ chest.

“Am I too heavy?” Dean asked, and Cas shifted slightly so that Dean’s head was resting over his heart.

“Not at all,” he said. He felt the hot water loosening his muscles, and breathed out, allowing himself to relax. Dean was spread out more naturally than before; Cas could see his chest rising and falling, slow and steady.

“Is this more how you imagined sharing a bath would be?” Cas asked. He was very comfortable without soaked denim wrapped around both legs.

Dean tilted his head to one side, leaning back so that he could look up at Cas. He licked his tongue over his upper lip, and smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “This is more like it.”

Cas leaned down, and gently pressed his lips to Dean’s.

By the time they got out of the bath, the water was cold.


End file.
